Growing Up
by katzechan
Summary: Clark never asked questions. Whitney never realized how much he took advantage of that.


Author's Note: This is an exercise in working in past and present tense - these are sometimes really hard for me to separate, so I tried to write something in which the past and the present are clearly defined, and it turned out funny! Dammit. I still like it though, even if it mutated a little. Verb tenses are difficult!

Disclaimer: Smallville belongs to whomever has it copywrited - this is not me.

* * *

Clark had never asked questions.

When Whitney had thrown him in the river when he had been a mighty third grader and the mocked farmboy only a firstie, he hadn't made a sound. When Whitney had laughed on the sidelines as his best friend had crumpled Clark's first paper in fourth grade, he had mostly laughed to cover the silence that had emanated from their flushed target. When Whitney had confirmed the rumors that he was dating that hot cheerleader Lana Lang in front of Clark (on purpose), he had only widened his eyes and stood in silence. When Whitney had passed him in the halls at school and jarred their shoulders together, Clark hadn't said a word but instead had awkwardly twisted out of the way.

When Whitney had given in to fear and fury and utter hatred and punched Clark in the face, all the noise he had made was a wounded gasp followed by silence. When Whitney's fellow teammates had carelessly tossed the surprisingly large brunette into the back of his father's truck, Whitney hadn't heard him utter a word. When they had arrived at the field and dragged the freshman in front of the scarecrow, he had suffered in bruised quiet. When Whitney had glanced back as he drove away from darkening shadows and inexpertly tied ropes pulled too tight, Clark had been watching and not calling after him.

When Whitney hadn't apologized the next day at the farmer's market, Clark hadn't asked, and Whitney had stubbornly decided that if _he_ wasn't asking anything, neither would Whitney, and so he had never learned how Clark had gotten down from the mock crucifixion. When Whitney had woken up in the hospital and been told that the Kent boy had pulled him from his exploding truck, the only thing that had sunk in through the headache was that Clark had never asked him what happened; was the only one who hadn't asked, and for the first time, Whitney had felt a flash of appreciation for his silence.

When Whitney had skipped three days of school and then walked back in pretending desperately that his father was fine, Clark had watched from the doorway to the newspaper room as students swarmed Whitney asking if the rumors about his family were right and had offered nothing more than a nod in passing. When Whitney had slipped into the math classroom the next week in search of some peace and quiet, he had known he could have stayed even though Clark was already there, crammed tightly into a desk bent over complex equations. And when Whitney hadn't stayed, Clark hadn't said anything.

* * *

When Whitney stood next to his father's grave in the rain and didn't cry, his mother and Lana and half the town asked him if he were okay and Clark didn't. When Whitney stumbled into the alley behind his father's store (his now) and heaved into the dumpster, the only reason he knew Clark had been there was the size twelve shoeprint in the dirt by the mouth of the street that he found later when he was taking down the open sign. When Whitney snapped at Clark the next day when asked about microwaves, suddenly furious and exhausted and _wounded_, the taller boy merely looked at him and then turned away.

When Whitney woke from his bewildered hate-filled adrenaline rush and realized what he had let happen to himself, what he had let others take from him, what he had _done_, the only person he could think of was Clark. And when Whitney broke down and cried and confessed, Clark didn't say anything. He didn't need to. His silent presence was enough and Whitney knew that Clark would never question him and that knowledge allowed Whitney to stand back up and put himself back together and walk away.

When Whitney needed a sanctuary or a confidant or a break or nothing, actually, he went to the Kent's barn and spent the evening with Clark, not answering questions.


End file.
